War negotiations

A series of early morning tremors ripped through the earth, stirring the soldiers from their restless sleep and sending them into a flurry of preparation. Dust and dread thickened the air as the desert whispered of an impending storm—one not of nature, but of steel and blood.

Erebus, already strapping the last saddle on his warbeast, felt the creature tense beneath him, its nostrils flaring as if catching the scent of unseen death. It stomped at the ground, agitated, sensing the shifting tides of fate.

"Steady," he murmured, running a gloved hand along its mane, but the beast remained restless.

"We're ready to depart," Zeraf announced, stepping up to his side.

Erebus didn't turn. "You're staying here. Alessio and Lu Yin will come."

Zeraf stiffened. "With all due respect, General, I—"

Erebus's gaze snapped to him, cold as the abyss. "You'll do as you're told. Or shall I carve the order into your skin?"

The tension in the air became suffocating, but Zeraf did not press further. He bit down his resentment and saluted stiffly. "Understood, sir."

Erebus pulled himself into the saddle, his warbeast shifting under him with a low growl.

Lu Yin smirked from his own steed. "You could've joined us, Zeraf. That is, if you had the brains."

Zeraf's eyes darkened. "You rat-faced little—"

"Ah-ah, keep it civil," Alessio cut in with a mock sigh. "You wouldn't want to embarrass yourself in front of the General."

Zeraf seethed but said nothing more as the riders spurred their mounts forward, the wind swallowing their laughter as they rode into the unknown.

Erebus being the last one pulled the reins for a moment and paused.

"Your moment of relish will soon come. One signal. Be ready to lead command in my absence."

"Understood Sir!" Zeraf immediately forgot his frustration and saluted him.

Erebus flicked reins sharply as his warbeast picked pace eagerly joining the rest of the desert horses.

Amenhotep took the lead, unfurling a white banner that snapped violently in the wind, as if resisting the very notion of peace. Their warbeasts lumbered behind them, but the spare desert horses, swift and untamed, were ready for when speed would matter more than strength.

"General, if I may be so bold..." Lu Yin ventured, his voice a blade sheathed in feigned deference.

"Go ahead."

"Why an alliance? We could've drowned them in their own blood."

Erebus's eyes remained fixed on the horizon. "Because corpses don't make useful pawns."

Lu Yin arched a brow. "A philosophical shift, or have you grown soft?"

Erebus allowed the silence to linger before answering. "If I wanted them dead, I wouldn't have bothered coming at all. That is if the sword in shados can work better."

Lu Yin studied him for a moment but said nothing more. Whatever flicker of urgency danced behind Erebus's eyes, it remained locked away, impenetrable as ever. Even when his face was concealed to prevent the wind ridden sand from entering into his mouth.

They crested a dune, and in the distance, a sprawl of tents came into view.

"General! That's their camp," Amenhotep called back.

"Send the signal."

Alessio fired two shots into the sky. Below, the other camp roused like a disturbed anthill, shadows moving swiftly, bristling with preparation.

A final shot. A pause.

"Raise the banner."

The long trumpet blast echoed in response, a note heavy with tension. The movements below slowed but did not cease. The desert held its breath.

"Keep moving."

They descended into the basin, the weight of unseen eyes pressing down on them as they approached the Amanécerian military camp. Soldiers met them with venomous glares, hands gripping weapons, ready to strike at the slightest provocation.

"State your purpose!" a guard barked in Amanécerian.

Erebus cursed himself. He had taken Luciana's linguistic skills for granted. Now, without her, he faced a wall of words he could not break. He never made an attempt to learn her language in the past.

Before he could respond, another voice sliced through the air in fluent Wahrheiti. "And how do you plan to prove your sincerity?"

Erebus turned and froze. Curly blond hair. Dusky pink eyes. The face of a man he despised, the very existence who tried to claim his woman.

His warbeast sensed his shift in energy and reared slightly. Soldiers flinched, fingers twitching over hilts.

"Our general says we come in peace! Why do you doubt our sincerity?" Amenhotep's voice rang out, his Kemetian accent thick but firm.

The blond man's gaze flicked to him. "The rider who escaped. Your comrades remain in our custody. We will not release them until your purpose is made clear."

"That is why we're here," Lu Yin cut in smoothly, switching tongues with practiced ease.

Erebus eyed him. The man was a viper, slipping through barriers with unnatural ease.

"We request an audience with your leaders," Alessio added, his words seamless between Amanécerian and Moghur. "We wish to end this war and destroy the devils who would see us all fall."

Octavius considered them before issuing a single order. "Confiscate their weapons and let them enter."

Steel glinted as soldiers moved in.

"H-hey! What's the meaning of this?!" Amenhotep growled as they stripped him of his blades.

Erebus raised a hand, halting any resistance. "Let them do as they will."

His men obeyed, though their fury burned in silence. Erebus took out two of his flintlocks and his sword.

As they moved deeper into the camp, trenches lined with crude but effective artillery yawned around them.

"Their weapons are primitive compared to the Zhonguo Republic and Wahrheit," Lu Yin murmured.

Erebus nodded. Amanécer had thrived on knowledge, but Wahrheit had honed war itself into an art.

Soldiers watched them like caged wolves, lips curled in barely contained aggression.

A nearby tent reeked of blood and faint herbs, a place where men either clung to life or slipped into the abyss.

Octavius signaled for them to stop. Soldiers stepped forward to take their reins. Erebus dismounted and handed his beast over. The creature resisted, thrashing violently, forcing weapons to be drawn.

"Control your beast!" a soldier snarled.

"And you better sheath your weapons before I let him loose on you." He reproached the soldier.

Erebus caught the reins effortlessly, pressing a hand against the beast's neck. It stilled beneath his touch, though its wild eyes remained defiant.

Octavius sneered. "You reek of something vile."

Erebus met his gaze with quiet menace. "Sheath your blades before you make a mistake."

Octavius hesitated, then gestured. The weapons lowered.

"Your Majesty," he called as he entered a grand tent. "I bring you these men who claim they seek a truce."

Inside, Helios sat over a war map, his fingers tracing grim possibilities. He barely looked up before another tremor shook the ground beneath them, rattling reality itself.